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#68: Establishing Relationships and Character Connections in Fiction

September 29, 2023/1 Comment/in Jane Austen Writing Lessons /by Katherine Cowley

This is the first post in a new series within Jane Austen Writing Lessons which will focus on relationships and character connections. A lot of times we think about relationships as romantic, and we will talk about that (after all, Austen has written some of my all-time favorite romantic relationships). But before we get to that point, we’re going to consider more general principles of establishing character relationships and connections.

In Jane Austen’s novel Emma, the very first spoken dialogue comes from Emma’s father, Mr. Woodhouse. He declares:

“Poor Miss Taylor!—I wish she were here again. What a pity it is that Mr. Weston ever thought of her!”

Miss Taylor is Emma’s former governess. She has recently married Mr. Weston, and as a result she no longer works for Mr. Woodhouse. Mr. Woodhouse is highly opposed to her loss. Emma attempts to convince her father that the marriage is a positive thing, beginning by saying, “I cannot agree with you, papa; you know I cannot.”

In these first few pages of Emma, the relationships and connections between characters begin to unfold:

Miss Taylor is in a romantic relationship with Mr. Weston.
Emma believes she is responsible for their marriage. As a result of this marriage, Emma decides she wants to be a matchmaker, which sets off the novel’s chain of events.
Miss Taylor worked for Mr. Woodhouse.
Clearly, he was highly reliant on her, and he considers his own needs and desires as more important than her own. He feels like his relationship with Miss Taylor can no longer have the same benefits or value. Even the possibility of visiting her seems nigh impossible, though they do not live far away.
Emma is friends with Miss Taylor.
Emma is saddened by the fact that her friend/governess will no longer always be with her—Jane Austen writes, “Sorrow came—a gentle sorrow.” Yet because of their genuine friendship, Emma is pleased at the marriage. Emma is confident that she can retain her connection to her friend even though their circumstances have changed.
Emma and Mr. Weston.
Their relationship is less clear in the opening pages, and their connection is not as strong as that between the other characters; however, Emma declares Mr. Weston to be “a good-humoured, pleasant, excellent man.”
Emma and her father, Mr. Woodhouse.
In the opening paragraphs, the narrator declares that one of the evils of Emma’s upbringing is that she has “the power of having rather too much her own way.” This reflects on her relationship with her father. Emma also has an incredible loyalty to him: she is devoted to staying with him and taking care of him. From the first chapter, we see her trying to help her father by encouraging him to accept their new situation and changing relationships with others.

Even in these first few pages, Jane Austen masterfully establishes the relationships between different sets of characters. Many of these relationships become driving factors in the novel, influencing plot and character, and adding meaning and consequence to the characters’ actions. Some of the relationships shift and change over the course of the novel, while others remain relatively static.

The first definition for the word relationship in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) is as follows:

The state or fact of being related; the way in which two things are connected; a connection, an association. Also: kinship.

It’s only in definition 2b that the OED defines a relationship in an emotional or sexual way, so let’s linger on this first definition of relationship, in which two people are related or connected in some way.

The primary root for the word relationship is the word relation, which, according to the OED, began to be used in English in around 1398. A relation means there is a “connection, correspondence, or contrast between different things.” Examining the relation between two things means considering why they are associated or what connects them. A relation can also mean “the social interactions that occur and feelings that exist between two or more people or groups of people.”

As you write or revise your own fiction, it’s important to look at the relationships and connections between characters, both ones which involve your main character and relationships which only involve the supporting characters.

As I consider relationships in my own stories, I like to ask:

What connects people?
How do two characters know each other?
How do they feel about each other? Why?
How does one relationship affect other relationships in the story?
Is the main character aware of the connections between other characters?
How do the character relationships manifest on the page, in actions and behaviors?
What events in the novel will cause shifts or changes in these relationships?

In the coming months, we’ll look more closely at how Jane Austen uses relationship arcs, builds webs of relations, and also constructs romantic relationships. But first, here are some writing exercises.

Writing Exercises - Jane Austen Writing Lessons

Exercise 1: Consider the first five to ten pages of your book. Make a list of each relationship that is established and what your reader knows about each relationship so far.

Exercise 2: Find a place that has a number of people and spend a few minutes people watching. If you see any relationships or connections between people, write them down. What sort of relationships do you think these people have? What clues help you understand these relationships?

Exercise 3: Write a scene about two characters who would be unlikely to have any sort of prior connection but do have some sort of relationship (i.e. a friendship, a past, same employer, etc.).

#65: Different Character Approaches to Dealing With and Expressing Emotions

October 12, 2022/0 Comments/in Jane Austen Writing Lessons /by Katherine Cowley

Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility focuses on two sisters, Elinor and Marianne, who act as foils to each other. They see the world differently; they treat relationships differently; Elinor places more value on reason while Marianne places more value on feelings and sensibility. One of the most stark contrasts between the two sisters is how they deal with their emotions and how they express them to others.

Elinor and Marianne in the 1995 version of Pride and Prejudice. Marianne is younger, and her gown has more color; she wears a fashionable hat while Elinor wears none.

Elinor and Marianne, as depicted in the 1995 film version of Sense and Sensibility

Both Elinor and Marianne experience similar loss: they are both separated from and hurt by the men they love.

When Willoughby leaves Marianne, she has a very dramatic response, and suffers “violent affliction.” Her emotions become less violent, but they continue to be marked by outward pining and despair. She becomes very inwardly focused, not noticing the needs or circumstances of those around her, and she makes a scene at a London ball when she sees Willoughby. After he marries someone else, goes out in bad weather and becomes deathly ill.

When Elinor discovers that Edward Ferrars is secretly engaged to Lucy Steele (through Lucy confiding in her), she suffers intense pain, but she refuses to outwardly show it to Lucy. And then she continues to mask her emotions with her family, even though doing so pains her. She knows that Marianne is suffering, and she doesn’t want to add any more burdens to her family by sharing her own suffering; furthermore, she is bound by a promise she has made to Lucy Steele, and because of that promise she does not know how to share her pain with those closest to her. Yet because she is a point of view character, as readers we see and understand her suffering and her internal angst.

Elinor and Marianne, as depicted the 2008 version of Sense and Sensibility. Elinor appears more serious while Marianne appears more playful.

Elinor and Marianne, as depicted in the 2008 Sense and Sensibility miniseries

These two characters react to similar situations differently because of their contrasting personalities and because of different outside circumstances. In addition to considering how the same character will express small, medium, and large emotions differently, writers should consider how different characters deal with and express their emotions.

Later, when it becomes public knowledge that Edward is engaged to Lucy Steele, Marianne is in complete shock. But she notices that her sister is not surprised.

“How long has this been known to you, Elinor? has he written to you?”

“I have known it these four months. When Lucy first came to Barton Park last November, she told me in confidence of her engagement.”

At these words, Marianne’s eyes expressed the astonishment which her lips could not utter. After a pause of wonder, she exclaimed—

“Four months!—Have you known of this four months?”

Elinor confirmed it.

“What! while attending me in all my misery, has this been on your heart? And I have reproached you for being happy!”

“It was not fit that you should then know how much I was the reverse!”

“Four months!” cried Marianne again. “So calm! so cheerful! How have you been supported?”

Marianne struggles to understand how Elinor’s outward reality could be in such contrast to her inward reality, because for Marianne, her inward and outward realities are typically aligned.

To Marianne’s question, Elinor responds:

“By feeling that I was doing my duty.—My promise to Lucy, obliged me to be secret. I owed it to her, therefore, to avoid giving any hint of the truth; and I owed it to my family and friends, not to create in them a solicitude about me, which it could not be in my power to satisfy.”

Marianne seemed much struck.

“I have very often wished to undeceive yourself and my mother,” added Elinor; “and once or twice I have attempted it;—but without betraying my trust, I never could have convinced you.”

“Four months! and yet you loved him!”

“Yes. But I did not love only him; and while the comfort of others was dear to me, I was glad to spare them from knowing how much I felt. Now, I can think and speak of it with little emotion. I would not have you suffer on my account; for I assure you I no longer suffer materially myself. I have many things to support me. I am not conscious of having provoked the disappointment by any imprudence of my own, I have borne it as much as possible without spreading it farther.”

Elinor goes on to tell Marianne how she has forgiven Edward and does not blame him. Then she says:

“Edward will marry Lucy; he will marry a woman superior in person and understanding to half her sex; and time and habit will teach him to forget that he ever thought another superior to her.”

Marianne cannot accept that her sister could reach such a point if she truly and fully loved Edward:

“If such is your way of thinking,” said Marianne, “if the loss of what is most valued is so easily to be made up by something else, your resolution, your self-command, are, perhaps, a little less to be wondered at.—They are brought more within my comprehension.”

But Elinor will not accept Marianne’s judgment. She rebukes Marianne, in essence saying that she has loved and felt as deeply as Marianne:

“I understand you. You do not suppose that I have ever felt much. For four months, Marianne, I have had all this hanging on my mind, without being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature; knowing that it would make you and my mother most unhappy whenever it were explained to you, yet unable to prepare you for it in the least. It was told me,—it was in a manner forced on me by the very person herself, whose prior engagement ruined all my prospects; and told me, as I thought, with triumph. This person’s suspicions, therefore, I have had to oppose, by endeavouring to appear indifferent where I have been most deeply interested; and it has not been only once; I have had her hopes and exultation to listen to again and again. I have known myself to be divided from Edward for ever, without hearing one circumstance that could make me less desire the connection. Nothing has proved him unworthy; nor has anything declared him indifferent to me. I have had to contend against the unkindness of his sister, and the insolence of his mother; and have suffered the punishment of an attachment, without enjoying its advantages. And all this has been going on at a time, when, as you know too well, it has not been my only unhappiness. If you can think me capable of ever feeling, surely you may suppose that I have suffered now. The composure of mind with which I have brought myself at present to consider the matter, the consolation that I have been willing to admit, have been the effect of constant and painful exertion; they did not spring up of themselves; they did not occur to relieve my spirits at first. No, Marianne. Then, if I had not been bound to silence, perhaps nothing could have kept me entirely—not even what I owed to my dearest friends—from openly showing that I was very unhappy.”

Marianne was quite subdued.

“Oh! Elinor,” she cried, “you have made me hate myself for ever.—How barbarous have I been to you!—you, who have been my only comfort, who have borne with me in all my misery, who have seemed to be only suffering for me!—Is this my gratitude?—Is this the only return I can make you?—Because your merit cries out upon myself, I have been trying to do it away.”

This is a powerful scene between the two sisters, in part because their different approaches to dealing with and expressing emotions requires them to reconcile with each other.

When writing character emotions, it’s important to remember that there is a full range of ways a character can react to the same event: a more dramatic, outward expression or a quieter, more internal expression could both be used for either large or small emotions. A more “emotional” character, like Marianne, does not actually have more emotions—they simply express them in a different manner. It is important to note, however, that the way a character chooses to express their emotions does have consequences: Marianne pining for months does have negative effects on her well-being, and prevents her from dealing with her emotions and facing the truth about Willoughby.

There are a full range of possibilities responses in between these two opposite approaches: there are endless ways a character might deal with or express their emotions. There is no guide, no rule on whether your character should express emotions in a big or small manner, an internal or an external way: this is something you have to choose for each character, and this choice will reveal a lot about the individual and their circumstances.

Exercise 1: Write a scene with two characters. They can be siblings, friends, coworkers, or have something else that ties them together and creates similarities between them. In the scene, have something negative happen to both of the characters. The two characters should deal with and express their emotions in different ways (they do not need to be polarly opposite in their reactions, but they can be).

Exercise 2: Write a second scene with two characters with something in common—they can be the same characters from exercise 1, or new characters. In this scene, have something positive happen to both of the characters. Once again, have the characters deal with and express their emotions in different ways.

Exercise 3: Choose a handful of people in your life that you know well or interact with on a regular basis. For each person, write a several sentence sketch about how they deal with and express their emotions.

Then reflect on the differences between these people, and how their reactions are impacted by their personalities and circumstances.

#64: The Size or Degree of Character Emotions

September 23, 2022/0 Comments/in Jane Austen Writing Lessons /by Katherine Cowley

When we talk about emotions in writing, we often think of big emotions, when characters are very emotional and emotive.

Yet characters experience not only a broad range of types of emotions, but a broad range of sizes of emotions. Characters have emotions that are strong or overwhelming, but they also have emotions that are fleeting and less consequential.

When considering the size of the emotion, it’s useful to ask:

To what degree does your character experience this emotion?
How important is this emotion to the story?
How many emotional clues need to be planted to convey this emotion?

In Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth experiences emotions in every scene—and in most scenes, she experiences more than one emotion. Let’s look at how Jane Austen conveys small emotions, mid-size emotions, and large emotions for this character.

Small Emotions

Small emotions are ones that the character experiences either for a short time, or only to a small degree. This might a small annoyance, a temporary flush of joy, a reaction to another character or something that happened.

While attending the Meryton Assembly, Elizabeth overhears Mr. Bingley trying to convince Mr. Darcy to dance, and Bingley points out that Elizabeth could be a good partner. Mr. Darcy replies:

“She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

Illustration from 1894 by Hugh Thomson, featuring Jane overhearing Mr. Darcy tell Mr. Bingley "She is tolerable"

1894 illustration from Pride and Prejudice by Hugh Thomson, via Lilly Library, Indiana University, Wikipedia Commons

While this is a rather weighty insult, Elizabeth has only a small emotional response:

Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story however with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in any thing ridiculous.

Clearly she’s not happy with Darcy, but rather than wallowing in the emotion, she sees it as ridiculous and tells it as a funny story.

Throughout Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth often uses humor as a lens to deal with small emotions. For some character, this event could create a much larger emotional response, but for Elizabeth it remains small, and she moves on.

It is a key emotional moment for the reader–one of the most memorable moments in the novel, that sets up their antagonism–but it doesn’t require very much space on the page.

At other times emotions are implied or are barely brushed upon. It’s important for the reader to understand what the character’s emotion is, but it’s a small emotion that needs only a small amount of space.

For example, after Mr. Collins’ arrival, he starts showering compliments on the family:

He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters, said he had heard much of their beauty, but that, in this instance, fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that the did not doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage.

And then, Austen gives us the emotional response of Elizabeth and her sisters, in contrast to Mrs. Bennet’s response:

This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers, but Mrs. Bennet, who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily.

It’s a simple phrase—“not much to the taste of some of his hearers”—but it does all that is needed to do to establish Elizabeth’s sentiments towards her cousin.

Hugh Thomson 1894 illustration from Pride and Prejudice. Five sisters sit on chairs, as if on display, and Mr. Collins inspects them. Mrs. Bennet adjusts the pose of one of her daughters. Jane has a sign over her head that says "Not for sale"

1894 illustration by Hugh Thomson from Pride and Prejudice. Jane, of course, is “Not for Sale,” but Mr. Collins is welcome (according to Mrs. Bennet) to choose any of the other daughters. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

Mid-Size Emotions

Mid-size emotions are ones that are larger for the character. They occupy more of the character’s heart and mind—they linger, have consequence, or are not as quickly resolved. They have a weightier impact on the character, and they often require more sentences on the page—more emotional clues.

In Pride and Prejudice, after Elizabeth and her sisters meet Mr. Wickham, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy see them—and Mr. Darcy sees Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth witnesses their emotions, and has her own emotions (particularly her curiosity) piqued.

[Mr. Darcy’s eyes] were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.

Here, Elizabeth notes the interaction, and her questions and her longing to know show her curiosity.

Later on in the scene, we read:

As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would have defended either or both, had they appeared to be in the wrong, she could no more explain such behaviour than her sister.

Elizabeth comes back to her emotion, she comes back to her puzzlement and her curiosity by raising it with Jane.

Mid-size emotions often need either more emotional clues, or recur again at some point in the scene.

1895 illustration by C.E. Brock of the arrival of Mr. Wickham and other officers at a gathering held by the Phillips family. Via Wikimedia Commons.

It’s not long after this point when Mr. Wickham’s confides in Elizabeth, telling his story of how he has been wronged by Mr. Darcy. This revelation produces emotions in Elizabeth that are larger than the emotions she felt upon seeing their initial antagonism, but still mid-sized in comparison to some of her emotions in other scenes.

Elizabeth is shocked, and we see this shock and surprise in her speech:

“This is quite shocking!—He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”

In the scene that follows she then asks follow-up questions. She pauses when speaking. She reflects. She remembers things Mr. Darcy has said in the past that would seem to corroborate Wickham’s claims. These emotional clues are layered on each other, giving a sense of how she feels.

She also uses many more exclamation marks than in her normal dialogue, and uses strong word choice:

“How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest—for dishonesty I must call it.”

Even once her conversation with Mr. Wickham is over, she keeps returning to it in her mind. Her emotions on the matter, and on Mr. Wickham more generally, become her entire focus:

There could be no conversation in the noise of Mrs. Phillips’s supper party, but his manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him. She could think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way home; but there was not time for her even to mention his name as they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent.

And her emotions don’t end in this scene. The next chapter begins:

Elizabeth related to Jane the next day, what had passed between Mr. Wickham and herself.

Note how much more page time is given to this emotion than to when Mr. Darcy insulted her at the ball. Note how much more it consumes her—how it engages her in different ways and uses a larger variety of emotional clues.

Large Emotions

Large emotions are bigger for the characters. They are often more personal and have larger consequences. They can accompany events or knowledge which is life changing or life shattering. Often these emotions are large because the circumstances require the character to develop a new understanding of the world and their place in it.

Like with mid-size emotions, large emotions require more page time, a layering of emotional clues, and a return, multiple times, to the emotion. Large emotions also provoke stronger reactions, stronger or more extreme physical sensations, and lead the character to engage in behavior that is outside of their norm.

Thomson-Colonel Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth

1894 illustration by Hugh Thomson of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth. Via Wikimedia Commons.

Elizabeth is extremely upset when she finds out from Colonel Fitzwilliam that it was Mr. Darcy who broke up Mr. Bingley and her sister Jane. He says simply,

“There were some strong objections against the lady.”

Paragraphs follow in which Elizabeth deals with her emotions, thinking about what happened. She considers how in some ways Mr. Darcy is right to have objections, but then she counters her own thoughts by thinking about how much Jane has been wronged.

The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, brought on a headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening that, added to her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined her not to attend her cousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea.

For most of her smaller negative emotions, Elizabeth has used humor. For mid-sized ones, she grapples with the problem, considering it from many sides—which she also does here. But this is emotion to a new degree. This has caused tears and a headache. And while Elizabeth is normally very correct in her behaviors and social expectations, she does not go to Rosings as she normally would.

In the next chapter we see the continuation of this emotion as she goes through all of Jane’s letters, trying to read Jane’s emotions and see how Mr. Bingley’s absence has impacted her sister.

It’s only a few pages later that Mr. Darcy proposes to her. She angrily turns him down, expressing her emotions to him in multiple ways. Even after he has gone, we continue to experience her emotions with her, and we have a longer shift into free indirect speech than we’ve experienced at other points in the novel.

The tumult of her mind, was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and cried for half-an-hour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by every review of it. That she should receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcy! That he should have been in love with her for so many months! So much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections which had made him prevent his friend’s marrying her sister, and which must appear at least with equal force in his own case—was almost incredible! It was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so strong an affection. But his pride, his abominable pride—his shameless avowal of what he had done with respect to Jane—his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging, though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner in which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his cruelty towards whom he had not attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of his attachment had for a moment excited.

She continued in very agitated reflections till the sound of Lady Catherine’s carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter Charlotte’s observation, and hurried her away to her room.

Illustration by C E Brock -- Mr. Darcy greets Elizabeth at the gate. He holds out a letter. Text reads, "Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?"

1895 illustration by C.E. Brock of Mr. Darcy giving Elizabeth a letter. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

Later, she receives his letter full of explanations. During the letter, we just read it with Elizabeth–the whole letter is included with no interruptions, no character actions or thoughts. We experience our own emotions as readers, and can guess at Elizabeth’s. Then after the letter, we have lengthy passages in which she walks, she re-reads, she analyzes specific phrases, she reflects. Her emotions undergo multiple shifts—and we go with her through these shifts.

Large emotions are often more complicated. They are not as clear cut—anger, joy, frustration, forgiveness can all be complicated and filled with nuance. Large emotions are bottles filled to bursting, and often require the character’s exploration and the narrator’s. They shift, they grow, they lessen, they increase again, and as we ride this roller coaster with the character, we empathize and at times even have a cathartic experience.

Conclusion

If you attend a symphony, you will not hear all the instruments playing at full volume the entire time. That would not be good music. Instead, some movements may be performed at quietly, while others will swell to fortissimo, some sections may highlight the violins, while others may feature brass instruments, and other still use a solo. We may only hear the cymbal a handful of times, but when we do, it will be at key moments.

We should do the same when we write character emotions: include a range of emotions, some of which are focused on at different times. Sometimes we touch on an emotion for only a moment; other times we explore the emotion for an extended period, or bring back an emotional theme later in the story. Including varying degrees of emotions—small, mid-sized, and large—creates contrast and emphasis, directs the readers’ attention, and serves to better illustrate character, as we see how they react and change in moments big and small.

Exercise 1: Emotion chart

Reread a book or rewatch a film you enjoy. As you do so, create a chart of character emotions. You can focus on the main character’s emotions or chart the emotions of multiple characters. Track the types of emotions experienced by the character(s), the size of the emotions, and what emotional clues are used.

Does a character experience or express large or small emotions differently? How do the biggest emotions line up with the biggest plot moments?

Exercise 2: Emotion reversal

Write about a small emotion you had in a large way—with several paragraphs and a layering of emotional clues. For example, spend a significant amount of time writing about mild irritation at no ripe avocados, a small amount of joy from getting the day’s Wordle, etc.

Now, write about a large emotion you had in a small way. This might be a phrase or a few sentences. You might dismiss the large emotion, compare it to something else and move on, etc.

Now, reflect. While often it’s useful to write about bigger emotions in a big way, and smaller emotions in a small way, in what circumstances would it be useful to do the reverse?

Exercise 3: Planning (or revising) a story

Plan out a novel that you intend to write. Which three scenes do you want to have the biggest, most explored emotions? How will the placement of these emotional scenes help the story? (You can also do this with a short story—however, choose one scene or moment to have the biggest, most explored emotions.)

If you are revising a story, find which scenes already have the biggest, most expressed emotions. Are these the scenes that should have the most emotional weight? Are they expressing or layering in the most effective way? As necessary, revise.

Jane Austen Writing Lessons. #62: Conveying Emotion Through Character Thoughts and Free Indirect Speech

#61: Conveying Emotion through Character Thoughts and Free Indirect Speech

August 10, 2022/0 Comments/in Jane Austen Writing Lessons /by Katherine Cowley

In the previous lesson, we analyzed a scene in Sense and Sensibility and discovered 10 emotional clues that Jane Austen uses to convey what characters feel to the reader. These ranged from concrete actions to impressions to shifts to dialogue. These clues are extremely useful, because they can create an emotional picture even for minor characters, far removed from the narrator’s perspective.

But what if you are writing in close third person—from a narrator’s perspective, but with close access to a character’s viewpoint, thoughts, and perspective? Or what if you are writing first person, and the narrator is one of the characters? Or what if you are writing from an omniscient point of view, and the narrator has the ability to dip into the minds, viewpoints, and eyes of multiple characters?

If you are trying to convey the emotion for a viewpoint character, there are additional emotional clues that you can use. In this lesson we will focus on two related but separate tools: revelations of character thoughts and free indirect speech.

Emotional Clues for Viewpoint Characters: Revelations of Character Thoughts and Free Indirect Speech

One of the most powerful tools for a viewpoint character is the fact that the writer can directly convey the characters thoughts. This is only possible for a viewpoint character—only for a viewpoint character can the narrator be seen to know, fully and completely, what that individual is thinking.

Emotional Clues Technique 11: Reveal the Thoughts of the Character. (Jane Austen Writing Lessons.)

There are many ways that a narrator can reveal character thoughts. Often this occurs through:

Summarizing the character’s thoughts,
Stating the character’s thoughts
Making statements on/connections related to the character’s thoughts.

Emotional Clues Technique 12: Free Indirect Speech. (Jane Austen Writing Lessons.)

Another related method to reveal character thoughts is free indirect speech. Free indirect speech (also known as free indirect discourse) was not invented by Jane Austen, but she was one of the first writers to use it in large amounts. So what is free indirect speech?

Free indirect speech is when the narrative shifts from a slightly more distant perspective of the narrator, to directly and fully into the character’s perspective, thoughts, and visceral experience.

Examples of Conveying Emotion by Revealing Character Thoughts and Free Indirect Speech

A passage from Jane Austen’s novel Mansfield Park will illustrate both types of emotional clues more fully.

This is a scene from the second half of the book. Fanny’s female cousins have left home, and her uncle, Sir Thomas, is truly noticing Fanny for the first time. Sir Thomas decides to throw a ball. He informs Fanny that she is going to open the ball—a position of great honor.

Throughout this passage, the third person narrator sticks close to Fanny’s perspective. This provides an opportunity to describe Fanny’s thoughts and reflections, her reactions and her emotions. At just a few points, the narration slips into free indirect speech, and we are completely immersed in Fanny’s perspective. The sentences which use free indirect speech are bolded. (Note that in the original, there is no bolding—there is nothing that distinguishes or separates the free indirect speech visually from the narrator’s descriptions and summaries of Fanny’s thoughts.)

In a few minutes Sir Thomas came to her, and asked if she were engaged; and the “Yes, sir; to Mr. Crawford,” was exactly what he had intended to hear. Mr. Crawford was not far off; Sir Thomas brought him to her, saying something which discovered to Fanny, that she was to lead the way and open the ball; an idea that had never occurred to her before. Whenever she had thought of the minutiae of the evening, it had been as a matter of course that Edmund would begin with Miss Crawford; and the impression was so strong, that though her uncle spoke the contrary, she could not help an exclamation of surprise, a hint of her unfitness, an entreaty even to be excused. To be urging her opinion against Sir Thomas’s was a proof of the extremity of the case; but such was her horror at the first suggestion, that she could actually look him in the face and say that she hoped it might be settled otherwise; in vain, however: Sir Thomas smiled, tried to encourage her, and then looked too serious, and said too decidedly, “It must be so, my dear,” for her to hazard another word; and she found herself the next moment conducted by Mr. Crawford to the top of the room, and standing there to be joined by the rest of the dancers, couple after couple, as they were formed.

She could hardly believe it. To be placed above so many elegant young women! The distinction was too great. It was treating her like her cousins! And her thoughts flew to those absent cousins with most unfeigned and truly tender regret, that they were not at home to take their own place in the room, and have their share of a pleasure which would have been so very delightful to them. So often as she had heard them wish for a ball at home as the greatest of all felicities! And to have them away when it was given—and for her to be opening the ball—and with Mr. Crawford too! She hoped they would not envy her that distinction now; but when she looked back to the state of things in the autumn, to what they had all been to each other when once dancing in that house before, the present arrangement was almost more than she could understand herself.

There is so much incredible emotion conveyed in these two paragraphs. We feel as if we are with Fanny, next to the dance floor. We are with her in thought, in perspective, in the moment.

Let’s look at the difference between when the narrator conveys Fanny’s thoughts through summary, statement, and analysis, and when the narrator conveys Fanny’s thoughts through free indirect speech.

She could hardly believe it.

Her thoughts flew to hose absent cousins with most unfeigned and truly tender regret

She hoped they would not envy her that distinction now

But when she looked back to the state of things in autumn…the present arrangement was almost more than she could understand herself.

In each of these phrases, we have access to Fanny’s thoughts, but it is through the filter of the narrator. These thoughts are summarized, they’re condensed, they are stated, they are made beautiful through connection and analysis. And these thoughts certainly give the reader a lens clearly into Fanny’s emotions, in a way that’s only possible because she is the viewpoint character.

In the sentences that use free indirect speech, this narrator’s filter—even though it is a close third person filter—is removed. We are completely in her thoughts, in the moment, with no summary or larger picture perspective:

To be placed above so many elegant young women! The distinction was too great. It was treating her like her cousins!

These are Fanny’s actual thoughts, in the moment—this is her emphasis, her internal exclamations. And then, a few lines later we read:

So often as she had heard them wish for a ball at home as the greatest of all felicities! And to have them away when it was given—and for her to be opening the ball—and with Mr. Crawford too!

The power of free indirect speech is that in these moments of immersion we, as the reader, become one with the character and her perspective. Nothing separates us—for a moment, we become her.

In this last sentence of free indirect speech, note how the syntax changes. We have three clauses, all starting with “and,” stacked on each other using em dashes. For this sentence, it creates a sort of miniature use of stream of consciousness—the natural, continuous, not always sequential direction of thoughts. (Authors who are famous for their use of stream of consciousness, like Virginia Woolf, use it for much longer passages. In this passage by Austen, this sentence leans towards stream of consciousness, but because of its length is properly categorized and free indirect speech.)

The Power of Conveying Emotion Through Character Thoughts and Free Indirect Speech

One of the powers of novels and short stories is that you can convey the viewpoint character’s thoughts, perspectives, and emotions, through summary, statement, making connections to other things, and free indirect speech. This is an opportunity that is not present in the same way in other mediums (for example, the only way movies and TV can do this is through voice over narration, and this only is effective for certain stories).

While free indirect speech has the advantage of immersing us fully into the character’s thoughts and perspectives, other sorts of revelations of character thoughts (like summary, statement, and making connections) have their own advantages: they can provide context, weave in themes and insights, create layering, and sometimes create an important distance between the reader and the emotion.

Like any tools to convey emotion, these should not be used exclusively, but when coupled with other tools, these techniques can help the reader feel a connection to the characters and understand their state of mind throughout the story.

A Few Final Notes: Italics and First Person Narrators

Instead of using free indirect speech, some modern stories will italicize character’s direct thoughts. This draws attention to it as a thought, separate from the main narrative, but has many of the same effects as using free indirect speech.
Texts written in first person rather than third person are, by definition, entirely in the thoughts and viewpoint of the first person narrator. However, there is still often a sense of the narrator as the storyteller—the narrator is still a filter. This is especially the case with a first person past tense point of view: there is often the sense that the story is being told later, and sometimes with accompanying reflection. At times, the descriptions and thoughts will feel even closer, more immediate, and more immersive, and this can create a similar effect as using free indirect speech.
First person present tense is meant to feel even more immediate than first person past tense, as everything is unfolding before the character (and the reader) in the present. Yet like with first person past tense, at times we can feel even closer and more submersed in the character’s perspective.

Exercise 1: An Imitation

Write an imitation of the two paragraphs from Mansfield Park. You should use your own characters, and a new situation which parallels the original (instead of a ball, another situation in which a character might be surprised, like being asked to demonstrate something at work, or being chosen as a starter in a soccer game).

As you write your own two paragraphs, try to match Austen’s use of emotional clues. When she summarizes an emotion, try to summarize your own character’s emotion. When she uses free indirect speech, use free indirect speech. When she makes a connection to something that happened in the past, make a connection to something that happened in the past.

Once you’re finished, read the paragraphs aloud and see how the emotions build for your character.

Exercise 2: Italics vs. Free Indirect Speech

Write two versions of a paragraph in third person where a character experiences emotion. In the first version, choose one to three spots where you express the characters thoughts in italics. In the second version, incorporate these same thoughts but using free indirect speech. Which approach works better for your particular passage and writing style?

Exercise 3: First Person Analysis

Choose a book or a short story written in first person. Read a few passages, analyzing how the emotion is conveyed through thoughts. Despite being third person, are there portions where we are farther from or closer to the character’s emotions?

#59: Internal Dialogue (Dialogue for One Person/Character)

June 1, 2022/0 Comments/in Jane Austen Writing Lessons /by Katherine Cowley

The very roots of the term dialogue imply that it requires more than one person for there to be a dialogue. According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, dialogue comes from the word dia, meaning “across, between,” and legien, meaning “to speak.” In other words, speech is occurring between people.

Yet there are times in fiction when we use dialogue for only one person—when we type something as dialogue, despite there being only one character, or the speech being entirely internal.

In this post I’ll talk about different forms of internal dialogue, including:

Soliloquys
Monologues (the cousin of a soliloquy–but not truly internal)
Other types of dialogue with oneself

Soliloquys and Monologues (Jane Austen Writing Lessons)

The Theatre Tradition of Speech for One Person

In theater, there are two terms that stand in contrast to dialogue, that represent speech for only one person: soliloquy and monologue.

Soliloquys (One person, with themselves)

A soliloquy is when a character speaks their thoughts aloud. In other words, they are talking to themselves. In a novel, a character can also speak their thoughts aloud—or, if the narrator is providing a close point of view, then a character can talk to themselves entirely in their heads. (In theatre, these thoughts must be spoken aloud, or the audience has no access to them.)

In the novel Persuasion, Jane Austen employs soliloquy when Anne enters her family’s rented house in Bath for the first time:

Anne entered it with a sinking heart, anticipating an imprisonment of many months, and anxiously saying to herself, “Oh! When shall I leave you again!”

Many of the most famous theatre soliloquys are longer passages which reveal much about the characters, their emotions, and their thought processes. Jane Austen incorporates this sort of soliloquy in her novel as well, though most of the time it is not set apart in quotation marks. Instead, she uses an extended passage of free indirect speech (slipping into the character’s thoughts while still using third person) to create longer character soliloquys.

An example of this can be found in the novel Emma, immediately after Emma has found out the truth about the affections of Frank Churchill, Jane Fairfax, and Harriet. This passage would be very easy to rewrite as a spoken Shakespearean soliloquy in a play:

Emma’s eyes were instantly withdrawn; and she sat silently meditating, in a fixed attitude, for a few minutes. A few minutes were sufficient for making her acquainted with her own heart. A mind like hers, once opening to suspicion, made rapid progress. She touched—she admitted—she acknowledged the whole truth. Why was it so much worse that Harriet should be in love with Mr. Knightley, than with Frank Churchill? Why was the evil so dreadfully increased by Harriet’s having some hope of a return? It darted through her, with the speed of an arrow, that Mr. Knightley must marry no one but herself!

Her own conduct, as well as her own heart, was before her in the same few minutes. She saw it all with a clearness which had never blessed her before. How improperly had she been acting by Harriet! How inconsiderate, how indelicate, how irrational, how unfeeling had been her conduct! What blindness, what madness, had led her on! It struck her with dreadful force, and she was ready to give it every bad name in the world. Some portion of respect for herself, however, in spite of all these demerits—some concern for her own appearance, and a strong sense of justice by Harriet—(there would be no need of compassion to the girl who believed herself loved by Mr. Knightley—but justice required that she should not be made unhappy by any coldness now,) gave Emma the resolution to sit and endure farther with calmness, with even apparent kindness.—For her own advantage indeed, it was fit that the utmost extent of Harriet’s hopes should be enquired into; and Harriet had done nothing to forfeit the regard and interest which had been so voluntarily formed and maintained—or to deserve to be slighted by the person, whose counsels had never led her right.

In you are writing a novel or short story in third person, a short soliloquy can be incorporated through either quotation marks around the thought, or by putting the thought in italics. A longer soliloquy will often be through indirect speech. If you are writing in first person, a soliloquy can be marked by quotes or italics, but often is just incorporated naturally into the narrative.

Monologues (One person, with an audience)

A monologue is when a character gives a longer speech aloud to other characters or with a perceived audience. Sometimes this is an entire scene. In Jane Austen’s novels, many characters give monologues intended for an audience to hear (think Mr. Collins).

In many ways, these monologues act like dialogue–there is an audience that is perceived by the character. Yet unlike in dialogue, the character is less likely to be interrupted. As a result, the speech is less of an active conversation with the characters around them.

Monologues take into account persuasive dialogue techniques, and are often meant to stir, change, or impress an audience.

Monologues reflect a character’s internal dialogue, but because they are performative, because they are for in audience, internal thoughts, emotions, and reasoning are filtered through a public, outside intent.

Dialogue for One Person/Dialogue With Oneself

At other times, Jane Austen uses dialogue with only one person, and with no audience, that is not a true soliloquy.

At times, this is because the character is having a sort of conversation with herself. These lines of dialogue can serve a similar role as if someone besides herself had spoken them. Just as in a conversation between two or more people, this internal dialogue with oneself can help the character consider or change her perspective.

In Persuasion, Anne reflects on the fact that her family no longer lives in their ancestral home, Kellynch-hall, and that it is now occupied by the Crofts:

She could not but in conscience feel that they were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch-hall had passed into better hands than its owners….

In such moments Anne had no power of saying to herself, “These rooms ought to belong only to us. Oh, how fallen in their destination! How unworthily occupied! An ancient family to be so driven away! Strangers filling their place!” No, except when she thought of her mother, and remembered where she had been used to sit and preside, she had no sigh of that description to heave.

In this passage, Anne does not say this dialogue to herself—or at least not unless she is thinking of her mother. But by considering that she could say this to herself, she is presenting a counterargument to her actual views, a perspective that is she is consciously setting aside and not incorporating into her being.

Austen uses many other innovative approaches to internal dialogue, but we are just going to consider one more. In some passages, dialogue that was spoken is then internally repeated as the character attempts to process it or deal with the words.

In Persuasion, after the first time in which Anne and Captain Wentworth meet in the present day, Mary informs Anne what Captain Wentworth thought of her:

“Captain Wentworth…said, ‘You were so altered he should not have known you again.’”

This leads to a flurry of emotions for Anne. She ends up repeating variations of this line of dialogue twice in her mind:

“Altered beyond his knowledge!” Anne fully submitted, in silent, deep mortification. Doubtless it was so; and she could take no revenge, for he was not altered, or not for the worse. She had already acknowledge it to herself, and she could not think differently, let him think of her as he would. No; the years which had destroyed her youth and bloom had only given him a more glowing, manly, open look, in no respect lessening his personal advantages. She had seen the same Frederick Wentworth.

“So altered he should not have known her again!” These were words which could not but dwell with her. Yet she soon began to rejoice that she had heard them. They were of sobering tendency; they allayed agitation; they composed, and consequently must make her happier.

While dialogue traditionally requires at least two people, soliloquys and other types of internal dialogue can be used to great effect, especially as a character looks deeply at themselves, reflects on their life, or decides to move in a new direction.

Exercise 1: Write a soliloquy for one of your characters at a key point in the story, as if they were performing this soliloquy on a stage.

What does this soliloquy teach you about your character? Should parts of it be incorporated into your story, either through internal dialogue or free indirect speech?

Exercise 2: The next time you read a novel, pay close attention to the dialogue. How often does the writer use two people in a scene of dialogue? Three people? Four people? A larger group? Are there any monologues? Are there any moments where the writer uses soliloquy or other sorts of internal dialogue? What is the effect of each different type of dialogue on the character and on the plot?

Exercise 3: Write a short scene which takes an innovative approach to internal dialogue or dialogue with only one character. A few ideas for the type of internal dialogue that you could use:

A conversation (or argument) with oneself
Theoretical dialogue that did not or could not occur
Imagining what another character might say
Repeated line of dialogue, with or without variation (either the character’s own dialogue, or something someone else said to them or about them)
Recollection of a series of different things that have been said to the character (by an individual or a group of people)

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Posts

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Small Emotions

Mid-Size Emotions

Large Emotions

Conclusion

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Emotional Clues for Viewpoint Characters: Revelations of Character Thoughts and Free Indirect Speech

Examples of Conveying Emotion by Revealing Character Thoughts and Free Indirect Speech

The Power of Conveying Emotion Through Character Thoughts and Free Indirect Speech

A Few Final Notes: Italics and First Person Narrators

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The Theatre Tradition of Speech for One Person

Soliloquys (One person, with themselves)

Monologues (One person, with an audience)

Dialogue for One Person/Dialogue With Oneself

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